Lin Fusheng stared at the painting of Old Man Lin, looked at it for a long time, and suddenly laughed, "Ha, this is not ......"

Old Man Lin also stroked his beard at this time, his eyes were bent into a slit, and he laughed. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

It turned out that under this painting, the hidden trajectory was actually the small black handprints of An'er and Zhu'er, two children, who were randomly photographed on it.

"Grandpa, you're so good, I thought you threw those papers away." Lin Fusheng looked at the painting and was amazed.

"Alas, we are not that rich family, this rice paper, we still have to save it. If you don't use it, throw it away, grandpa can't bear it. If you want to lose it, you have to use it to lose it. As he spoke, Old Man Lin picked up the painting and wanted to throw it away.

Lin Fusheng was taken aback when he saw this, hurriedly stopped it, snatched the painting from the old man's hand, and said, "Grandpa, you are the biggest waste." Why throw away such a good painting? In the future, the grandchildren will have it framed and hung at home. Be a family heirloom. As he spoke, Lin Fusheng carefully rolled up the painting and held it in his hand.

Old Man Lin looked at his grandson so much to cherish a painting he made casually, and he couldn't help but feel a trace of warmth in his heart. I thought that he had lived for a long time, and he would be a person who would enter the earth, but he didn't expect to get a bosom friend or his own grandson. The old man's mood at this moment was really very happy and gratifying.

"Hehehe...... in this world, I'm afraid that only Fusheng is the only one who takes grandpa's calligraphy and painting as a treasure." The old man stroked his beard and smiled.

Lin Fusheng pursed his lips, like all doted juniors, and smiled mischievously in front of the elders.

"Uh, yes. There are still a lot of papers that have been ruined by those two babies. It's better to practice calligraphy than to ply. ”

"Isn't Grandpa painting anymore?"

"Hehe, that painting was just made by grandpa suddenly, and it was made by chance, and it will be difficult to paint with these little paw prints."

"Well, that's good. Fusheng will try to go back and see if he can use these handprints to draw like his grandfather. ”

"Hmm." Old Man Lin smiled and nodded.

The intimate time with Old Man Lin passed quickly, and by the time he came out of the old man's room, it was already past the hour.

When Lin Fusheng's figure just appeared in the courtyard, Lin Dezhong shouted and pounced. "My second brother, why are you going to the old man's room......" Before he finished speaking, he noticed that Lin Fusheng was holding a pile of rice paper in front of him, and there were ink stains on it. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he said happily: "These, they can't be written by grandpa, right?" Hehe, second brother, you are really good, and you have three or seven points, no loss at all, if it is me, you will not come to one, you will come so many at once......" said Lin Dezhong and wanted to catch it.

Lin Fusheng turned sideways, flashed past Lin Dezhong, and said, "These are An'er and Zhu'er's handprints, do you want them too?" ”

"Huh? Mudras? Then I don't. Grandpa told you to throw it, right? ”

"Grandpa asked me to use it to practice calligraphy."

Hearing this, Lin Dezhong looked disdainful, "Hey, grandpa is really picky." It's all spent like that, and if you throw it away, you have to keep it. ”

It's really not a good home, I don't know how expensive firewood and rice are. Lin Fusheng didn't bother to pay attention to him, his face sank, "What about the paper I want?" ”

Hearing this, Lin Dezhong grinned and said happily: "I got it a long time ago, and I have already put it in your house." ”

It is really true that interests generate momentum, and it is efficient enough.

When he returned to the room, Lin Fusheng saw a thick stack of rice paper on the table. I couldn't help but exclaim: "There are at least more than 100 pieces of paper here, even if you write half of it, you have to write more than 50 sheets, you want to exhaust me?" ”

Lin Dezhong sneered: "Hehe, second brother, aren't you going to the county, I have been gone for many months, and I have to keep it and spend it slowly." Again, besides, heh, don't you have your share? ”

Okay, do you think this is a ghost ticket? The more the merrier? "Don't you know that scarcity is expensive?"

Lin Dezhong was stunned for a moment, twitched the corners of his mouth, and said, "What is rare and expensive?" Can a thin one be expensive? Everything is thick and expensive, and there are a lot of materials. ”

"......" Lin Fusheng only felt that the crow above his head was flying over with a roar.

The thin ones are not expensive, and the thick ones are expensive. Unexpectedly, when this is eight-treasure porridge. Don't look at growing up, this is still a foodie, and he compares everything to food.

Lin Fusheng was completely defeated.

After thinking about it, this kid is really out of the money now. For the sake of money, all kinds of crooked brains are used. My bad. I shouldn't have told you anything about making a lot of money in the first place. It seems that now is also the time to let reality leave some traces on your little black face. lest this boy go further and further on his filthy ideal path.

Thinking of this, Lin Fusheng used his brain, stirred up the bad water that stirred his stomach, and smiled evilly at a speed that was not noticed, and said, "Grandpa taught me to draw just now." You can't make a lot of money just by selling words, so wouldn't it be better for me to give you pictures and writes. ”

Lin Dezhong was overjoyed when he heard it, "Ah, really, that's great!" Second brother, draw quickly. ”

"Drawing, that's more difficult than writing, and after a while, you won't be able to finish it. Well, in two days, my dad isn't going to town. When the time comes, I can naturally draw it and inscribe some words. You take it to the town and find a rich man to sell it. Whether you can sell it for a price depends on your ability. Lin Fusheng spoke, wanting to laugh.

"Yes, the second brother is right, I just planned to go to the town to sell it. But if you want to paint me two more, won't I sell more? ”

"That's not what you say, it's up to you to sell it." Lin Fusheng patted Lin Dezhong on the shoulder and said with a smile: "When did you figure out my words, so that you can really make a lot of money." ”

Lin Dezhong frowned, thinking hard all the way. Since I was a child, I haven't used my brain like this, and I don't know how many brain cells have died.

After Lin Dezhong left, Lin Fusheng spread out a piece of rice paper with a small black handprint, and then opened the painting of Old Man Lin. In contrast, he tried to imitate it on paper.

In ancient China, Chinese calligraphy and painting were produced in ancient hieroglyphs, at that time, words were both paintings, and paintings were words. In later generations, literati painted with written brushwork, and gradually formed a unique Chinese painting.

In the Ming Dynasty, people who pretend to be elegant and elegant like to put their feelings on the scene, paint a painting, and then endow it with poetry, so as to show their talent and be different. If you can only paint and not write poems, or you can only chant poems but not paint, it will be a big regret in life.

Therefore, most people who can write and write poetry can paint to some extent, but there is a difference between good and bad painting.

Lin Fusheng is under the influence of such an environment, even if he can't paint, but at least he can copy.

He leaned over the table, carefully observed the painting of Old Man Lin, and studied it for a long time. Look at how the old man turned a five-finger print into a bamboo leaf, and how he turned random graffiti into a bamboo forest.

Lin Fusheng surrendered the case for two days, used up almost all the stained rice paper, and finally imitated a not very brilliant bamboo forest picture.